Evening Poem, January 9, 2019

I saw a redbird in a bush this January day
The bush was bare branches, brittle twigs
Grey as the winter sky
And the bright bird perched within, alone
Like a beating heart
Like the fire of life in some long-dead forest
Like living color against black and white
Like some remnant left over from the time
When life coursed over this little hill
Like a sparkling river

copyright 2019








This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s